Fairy Tale

I was asked by a proffessor if my life was a fairytale, and wheteher it should be or not. I am absolutely not living in a fairytale. Fairytales are not tragedies, and my life is one giant string of sucky events with no end in sight.
I am not a fairytale heroine. For one thing, has anyone ever heard a fairytale heroine use scarcasm? No. So there goes that delusion, if anyone reading this made it past one conversation with me with that one still intact. They make pills for that now, FYI.
I am not pretty or kind or fair. I am an average looking, blunt, scarcastic, cynical psychopath that likes to hear other people's happy stories and that shit happens to for no reaon apperant to me. I am all of the former things because of the latter events. The crazy thing is though, I like that. I'd like to allow myself the ego to think that I am much more interesting than any two-dimentional fairytale heroine could be. I love my dark attitude and my quirky demeanor, and God bless my scarcasm. What would I do without it? If I danced around a house singing and cleaning and talking of how wonderful everything was all of the time, well let's just say that the story wouldn't end like a fairytale and would involve a sawed-off shotgun.
In fact, I am pretty sure that a fairytale would ruin my life. The shit that life throws at you lets you know when to take a shower.
If this was a fairytale, I might be a bit more encouraged, because in fairytales all of the crap happens to the heroines in the first part, but because she dreams hard and works harder, everything works out for her all right. My dreams are powerful and I work for them harder than anyone else, but I know that in reality better people by far than me who make me look like a lazy blob get screwed over every day. It's not fair. Nothing in this world is fair. That's why all fairy tales take place far, far away.
Besides, my prince would't be riding in gallantly on horseback or, for goodness' sake, sparkling in the sunlight. He'd run in smelling like trees and sweat, carying an M14 and yelling "GET OUT OF HERE, FOR GOD'S SAKE SHE'S GONNA BLOW!!!", prefferably in a scottish brouge.